


When the heart is confused...

by lunaemoth



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Demisexual Inquisitor, Demisexuality, Dragon Age Kink Meme, Explicit Consent, F/M, Fluff, Relationship Negotiation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-29 21:50:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6395203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunaemoth/pseuds/lunaemoth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>... and the mind is worried, trust the Bull: you're overthinking this.</p><p> </p><p>For <a href="http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/15543.html?thread=61414327">a kink meme prompt</a>: <i>Demisexual Adaar is slowly coming to see the Bull in a romantic light. Unfortunately, he thinks she's firmly off limits. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	When the heart is confused...

**Author's Note:**

> Complete prompt: _Demisexuals don't get enough love in fiction. The majority of people don't even know that they're a thing, which is kind of sad really. I'd love to read about a demi!Ink slowly falling into like, and then deeper into friendship/kinship/camaraderie, and then, slowly starting to develop romantic/sexual desire toward their LI, which hasn't happened to them in ages and makes everything so much more complicated and confusing. But by that point, their LI is thinking that Ink is firmly off limits/uninterested and has backed off, leaving Ink in that unenviable position of trying to figure out how/why/of they can approach this without their LI thinking that they were stringing them along this whole time. It works out, of course, I don't think any of the LI's would be enough of a jerk for it not to! Sex is optional, but definitely appreciated, lots of pining please! Would prefer Ink/Dorian (male ink only!) or Ink/Bull (any gender/species is fine) but if you want to go with someone else that's fine too. Just no Solas or Cole please._  
>   
>   
> 
> NB: I'm french, english isn't my first language and this isn't betaed so you can expect some mistakes. If anything bothers you please send me a nice comment with the correction.

The tavern was busy. It was late, people were distracted, drunk and merry. Varric and Scout Harding were weaving a tale involving merchants that Herah wasn’t listening to, too busy staring at the Iron Bull from the corner of her eyes. He was laughing to the story with a maid wrapped around his shoulders. It was very distracting. Especially the longing she felt: she yearned to be the one touching him like that.

This didn’t happen in ages. Her first love had been a childhood friend. They had had sex once before he admitted he wasn’t in love with her. She thought that would be it. He broke her heart and she wasn’t able to love anyone else after that: no one else had interested her after all.

That wasn’t true anymore. Maybe her heart healed and it finally decided it was time to make a fool of herself once again. That was entirely possible. That’s probably why it waited until _after_ that embarrassing scene during which she had to turn down Iron Bull, when he thought that she was looking a little too closely at him because of sexual interest (she was just curious about his Ben-hassrath activity, nothing sexual in it… or was it? Oh, Maker, great, now she was confusing herself).

Now that they were good friends, comfortable with each other despite that little miscommunication and trusting each other despite their differences of upbringing, she thought that it would stay this way and everything would be fine. However, lately, the way she was seeing him was changing slowly. At first, she admired his fighting abilities and intelligence, then his gait, his body, his laugh… and now she was straight up jealous of the ones he was bedding; reduced to watching him surreptitiously.

Bull caught her staring (of course he did) and winked at her. “Yeah, I remember that dwarf. He called us ‘ _walking mountain_ s’, didn’t he, Boss?”

“Uh, yeah,” Herah muttered, grateful that no one was really paying attention to her (apart from him, urgh). Annoyed at herself, she scowled at the bottom of her empty glass.

“Here.”

A full glass of beer appeared in front of her. She smiled at Krem as he sat down on her left. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He played with his own glass before asking: “Is there something wrong? Aside from the previous lack of alcohol…”

“Just some… stuff…” She grumbled. “It’s nothing, just me frustrating myself.”

“Yeah? For a sec, there, I thought that scowl was for the chief.”

“What? No,” she replied, probably a little too quickly.

“My mistake, then. The chief ain’t wrong though: most of the time you’re pretty easy to read then you do some stuff we misinterpret…”

Herah looked at him with a hint of distress, her glass hovering near her mouth. How was she supposed to take that? Did they think she was stringing the Iron Bull along on purpose?

“Hey,” Krem quickly said, “I don’t mean anything by that. It just shows that all this spy stuff the chief tries to teach me isn’t an exact science, you know. It’s good for his ego that he’s wrong from time to time!”

She relaxed slightly but not as much as Krem would have hoped.

What if the Iron Bull had been right and she was the one who was wrong? No, that didn’t make sense, she knew how she felt: until recently, she wasn’t interested in him sexually and that was that. She just… had a wake up call or something, right when he had backed off, because her life wasn’t messy enough.

She guzzled her drink and left before the Iron Bull could lead away his one-night stand. She was giving herself an headache with her stupid pining, it was annoying.

 

*

 

“Boss, you’re doing it again.”

“What?”

“Staring.”

Herah immediately looked the other way, willing herself not to blush. They were on their third day of travel to the Emerald Graves. The path being relatively safe, they were relaxed. Varric and Solas were riding further behind, focused on their own conversation. Bull was ahead, vigilant, until he slowed down to her level, having waited for an appropriate moment to needle her.

“Sorry,” she grumbled.

“Oh, you can stare all you want. I know there is much to look at. I just get the feeling that there is something bothering you. Want to talk about it?”

Herah fidgeted with the reins and looked straight ahead. “Mh, no, I don’t think so. I mean, I’m not…” She huffed in frustration. “I don’t really know how to explain it to myself so explaining it to someone else…”

“Sounds to me like you’re overthinking it, boss. Maybe what you need is precisely to explain it to someone else for it to make sense.”

Dubious, Herah made a face.

“Just try it.”

Well, she couldn’t continue like this indefinitely and the Iron Bull wouldn’t be offended right? He was quite hard to offend after all, and since he was experienced maybe this would make more sense to him… In the worst case scenario, he would just go with it and accept that, regardless of what she told him previously, she was interested in a relationship now, no questions asked...

No, she was fooling herself. He was a spy, he would appear comprehensive but he’d think less of her and she couldn’t afford that, as the Inquisitor just as much as a potential lover.

But… she won’t _ever_ be his lover if she didn’t admit that he was right and that she was really interested in him, all things considered.

Oh, maybe she should simply say that she changed her mind?

No, then he’d _definitely_ think she was stringing him along!

“Boss, you’re _really_ overthinking it.”

She sighed. “I know.”

“What’s the problem?”

“I’m… confused. _You_ ’re confusing me!” She suddenly exclaimed, pointing at him, accusative. Really, this was his fault: why was he attractive all of a sudden? When they first met, she thought that he looked like a self-indulgent pirate, for the Maker’s sake!

With a patient and amused smirk, he raised his only eyebrow at her. “What is it? Wondering how I can be so strong, intelligent and handsome at the same time? I’m afraid life is just unfair, what can I say.”

She sputtered in disgust. “Oh, please!”

He burst into laughter and Herah removed a foot from the stirrup to kick him lightly.

“Woah, what did we miss?” Varric asked as Solas and he caught up with them.

“The boss is confused by my good looks,” Bull teased with a wide grin.

She groaned and punched him this time. “Bull is being a narcissistic asshole. Nothing new under the sun.”

“It’s fine if you’re in denial, Boss!” The qunari chuckled cheerfully.

She was extremely thankful when Varric replied to that (with what? It didn’t even registered) because it allowed her to turn away long enough to get her flushed cheeks in check.

 

*

 

This evening, they set up camp not far from a river. Herah used the opportunity to freshen up after dinner. Having plainly said so, she was expecting to be left alone. The Iron Bull had others plans.

“So, Boss.”

Startled, she squeaked, crouched in the cold running water and threw the soap at him.

Since he had his back to her to respect her privacy, it hit him right between the horns before he could catch it. He chuckled and threw it back at her. “Easy boss, I don’t peep without permission.”

“Then why are you here?”  

“Because we need to talk without you being able to flee or being interrupted by Varric.”

“I don’t see what you mean,” she lied, keeping an eye on him as she finished cleaning herself and rubbing her sore flesh. The night had fallen but the moons were bright enough for her to see the curve of his massive muscles and the length of his horns.

“Don’t think I didn’t see that blush earlier. I might have made some mistakes before but right now you’re pretty easy to read.”

She winced then sighed. It was useless to postpone this. “It’s embarrassing,” she admitted, getting out of the water since her relaxing time was definitely over.

“It can’t be more embarrassing than that time in Val Royeaux, when I saw you in that frilly dress…”

“You won’t ever let me forget that, will you?” She mentally cursed Vivienne and Josephine for the umpteenth time. A Qunari warrior in Orlesian fashion was just silly. No lost game of Wicked Grace deserved that kind of price.

“Never.” He chuckled while she grumbled and added: “I promise I won’t laugh at you, if that’s what worries you.”

“No, that’s not it,” she sighed, drying herself with a towel. “I’m afraid you’ll think less of me.”

“Boss, I’ve seen you keep your ground in front of dragons, an ancient magister and a court of Orlesians. I also saw you carrying refugees’ children on your shoulders, indulging awkwardly but patiently crying believers thanking you for doing Andraste’s work just to give them some comfort, and so on and so forth. There isn’t much you could say that would make me think less of you.”

Herah put on a clean shirt, mindful of her horns, before jumping in: “So, that time in my room when I told you no? I meant it.”

“Ok,” he said patiently, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“But, since then, I… mighthavechangedmymind?” She admitted very quickly.

There was a few seconds of silence before Bull asked: “That’s it?”

“Uh?”

He huffed and tilted his head slightly towards her. “Can I look?”

“Yes,” she agreed. She was only wearing a long tunic but it was covering everything that mattered.

He turned around and stepped forward to hold her by the shoulders. “You really overthought this. Why would I think less of you because you changed your mind?”

“I was afraid you might think that I was stringing you along and… I didn’t explain myself well.” With a lot of hand gestures, she added: “At the time, I wasn’t thinking of you like that. I mean, like romantically and sexually, but now I do. Something changed and I don’t really know why.”

“Alright, I get it.”

Sceptical, she made a face. “You do?” That was impressive because she didn’t understand herself.

“Dress and come back to camp. I’ve first watch, we’ll talk.”

“Alright.”

Before turning around, Bull stepped forward and leaned down to murmur: “By the way, Boss, you’d look even better in my shirt.” His callous hand brushed her skin, just under the fabric stopping at her thighs.

Flustered, she needed a moment to find a comeback and shouted as he left: “You don’t wear any shirt!”

“My point, exactly!”

 

A few minutes later, once dressed, she sat next to Bull by the fire. Solas and Varric had gone to sleep and they sat as far away from their tent as they could to not disturb them when they talked. For a few seconds they enjoyed the evening’s silence, the fire crackling and the wind in the leaves. Then, Herah finished braiding her hair and gave in first: “Are you sure you’re not even a little upset with me?”

“Pretty sure, yeah,” he replied peacefully. Since it didn’t appease her much, he added: “Seems to me like you’re the one upset with yourself. I don’t think I’m going out on a limb in thinking that you don’t have much experience with relationships, uh? When was the last time you were interested in someone?”

Herah fidgeted slightly. “Uh… eight years ago? With my first boyfriend who… wasn’t much of a boyfriend.”

That surprised the Iron Bull enough that he raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t been attracted to anyone since?”

“Well… not really, no. I mean, there were plenty of people I found handsome but… that’s it.” Self-conscious, she asked softly: “Is it a bad thing?”

“Bad? Of course not. Unusual, maybe. Most people at least find some people bangable from time to time, in my experience. But it takes all kinds to make a world.  I knew some guys in Par Vollen who weren’t interested at all in sex or romance of any kind. Whether you want a lot of sex or not at all and everything in between is just how it is, there isn’t right or wrong in this.” He shrugged.

Herah relaxed and nodded thoughtfully.

“I’m wondering though… since you changed your mind…” Bull stared at her, pondering. “Anyone else you viewed differently once you trusted them?”

“You mean Cullen?” She asked, clueless.

He smirked. “As good an example as any. What do you think of him? What would you say about kissing him?”

Herah opened her mouth to reject the idea and froze as she considered it despite herself. A blush crept up her cheeks. “Well… mh… I suppose a kiss would be fine.”

“Yeah? And the day you met him?”

“No way. I didn’t know him and he looked at me like I was a wild mabari,” she immediately denied.

“Like what?”

“You know, he loves mabari but a wild one can be just as dangerous as helpful. That’s how he looked at me, like he didn’t know what to make of me and my horns. It wasn’t really _romantic_ ,” she huffed.

“Boss, some mages at Skyhold would swoon with just a look from him, no matter how suspicious he’s of them,” he reminded her.

“I thought humans and elves were just silly like that,” she admitted, unsure.

“Well… There is that, I guess. I never met any dwarves or Qunaris talking about love at first sight,” he admitted, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “But let’s not digress. Think of anyone else you wouldn’t be opposed to kissing.” When she wrinkled her nose, he insisted: “Indulge me, boss.”

“Fine! Mpf… There is… Krem, I suppose.” She ignored his smirk. “Dorian… Josephine… and Varric.”

“What about Alistair?”

“The king? Are you crazy? I’m not going to kiss the _king_!”

“Don’t make it sound so far-fetched. You’re the Inquisitor; you saved one of his city from evil Tevinters, remember? And logic has little to do with wanting to kiss someone. He’s pretty hot, isn’t he?”

“Uh… I suppose… He reminds me of Cullen actually, but that’s not _the point_ ,” she sputtered. “I just… don’t see him like that.”

“Fine. Hawke?”

“No.”

He tried several others names; all were admittedly handsome, but she shook her head or pinched her lips in disinterest.

“Alright. Krem, Dorian, Josephine and Varric, you trust them, right?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

“Seems to me like we found a pattern.”

She blinked and considered it, playing with the tip of her braid. “Oh. Yes… I suppose that makes sense.”

Bull shrugged. “So, you’re only attracted to someone if you know and trust them. Fair enough.” He rested his forearm on a raised knee and turned towards her, the fire reflecting on his eyepatch. “That explains a few things actually.”

“It does?”

“Yeah. I think I might have confused your curiosity for attraction for a while. Then, you started looking at me differently and I was pretty sure that there was some jealousy in it but I didn’t want to get carried away once again. You might just have been jealous of my great rack after all.”

Herah snorted and hit him lightly. She felt more relaxed than she had been in weeks. It was comforting to finally make sense of this mess: not only her heart’s logic but also the misunderstanding with Bull. When he opened his arms in a silent invitation, she shifted closer and settled with her back to his chest, his strong arms embracing her.

He leaned down for them to be cheek to cheek and hummed before adding: “So, you _were_ jealous, uh? Tell me about it.”

Embarrassed, she squirmed and shook her head. He briefly licked the tip of her ear and nibbled down to her earlobe. She gasped.

“Tell me and I’ll make it worth your while,” he promised in a whisper.

“I wanted to be the one sitting on your lap and going back to your room with you,” she admitted under her breath.

He chuckled softly, the vibrations going from his chest to her back. It was a pleasant sensation but embarrassing nonetheless. She turned her face away from him, giving him the opportunity to nuzzle and kiss her neck. “That can easily be arranged.”

“You should focus on your watch,” she grumbled without actually trying to evade his touch.

“I will, as soon as you give me a kiss.”

She turned around in his embrace to do so, humming in pleasure when he masterfully took control of the kiss. She raised a hand to his chin for balance and smoothed his stubble.

“When we’re back in Skyhold…” His husky voice trailed off in a silent promise.

“You’re really going to wait until then?”

“Gorgeous, if I put my hands on you, it won’t be for a quickie behind the bushes.” He caressed her from the back of her knees to her buttocks, squeezing them gently before kissing the corner of her lips. “Now, stop distracting me and go to sleep, boss.”

She huffed but complied.

When he came into their tent later, she woke up just enough to snuggle closer to him. He welcomed her with an arm around her waist.

 

*

 

Two weeks later, after a long debriefing, Herah went to the Herald’s rest and looked for the Chargers’ table. Since it was still early evening, they were all sober and playing Wicked Grace.

“Boss! Are you done with the paperwork?” Bull asked cheerfully.

“For now.”

“Good. I kept your place.” He moved his chair away from the table and opened his arms with a cheeky grin.

Having expected something like this, Herah poked him in the chest with a fond smile and settled sideways on his lap. His left arm went around her waist and she leaned against his shoulder with an arm draped across his back. It was warm and comforting, although not necessarily the most comfortable position, especially not with all the eyes on them.

After a fews seconds of silence, every Charger reacted at the same time with small sounds or words of surprise and interrogation.

“Forgot to mention something about that trip, Chief?” Krem asked.

“I thought she told you to get lost?!” Skinner said loudly. “Are you taking the piss?!”

Herah tensed at those words, wondering if this harsh tone was for her. The elf certainly was glowering suspiciously at her but she glowered a lot, anytime and at everyone. Herah never knew what she thought.

Unfazed, Bull threw a card on the table and replied: “She changed her mind.”

“Grim changes his mind about whether ale or whisky is better but people don’t change their mind about sleeping with someone, unless they-eyk!” Skinner tumbled with her stool. Krem, who was sitting beside her, didn’t bat an eye but Herah was pretty sure that the slight nudge of foot that Bull gave him wasn’t a coincidence.

“Herah said no which meant no and now she said yes which means yes. The particulars of this decision are none of your business,” Bull stated with a hint of warning. When Skinner stood up with a scowl, looking ready to say something unwise (like she often did), he added: “Unless you think that the Inquisitor or myself are unable to care for ourselves?”

Skinner scowled even more, glanced between the two horned giants, crossed her arms and muttered: “Whatever.”

“That’s the spirit. Get back here, it’s your turn.”

The conversation abruptly changed to the Chargers’ training and doings during their absence. Herah was happy to stay quiet, to be forgotten for a while, as she sipped from Bull’s tankard. However, once most of them were focused on a tiff between Rocky and Dalish, she tilted her head and whispered in her companion’s ear: “Bull…”

“Don’t, gorgeous,” he interrupted, gently squeezing her waist. “You’re overthinking it again. Skinner likes to pick holes in everything. Think nothing of it.”

“But…”

“I mean it.” He changed his cards of hand to be able to hold her chin and kiss her properly.  “You know I don’t mind, yeah? What others think don’t matter.”

“Even if they’re the Chargers?”

“ _Especially_ if they’re this bunch of boisterous and nosy kids.”

A chorus of “Hey!” sounded out and Bull threw them all an unimpressed stare for listening to their conversation. Dalish met Herah’s eyes and gave her a sheepish smile but the rest of them were unrepentant.

“Don’t mind us, Inquisitor,” Krem said, “you look good together. Maybe you can get this big idiot to stop waking us at the crack of dawn.”

A volley of requests followed, topped by: “Or break all the beds!”

At which point, Bull, who was rolling his eyes until now, snorted and retorted: “If you think two qunaris together won’t break a human-built bed, you’re delusional. In fact…” His hand went down, to cup Herah’s backside, and she knew what he was going to suggest before he continued: “we should try it right now.” He stood up effortlessly, leaving Herah to hang on as he lifted her up in his arms.

“Bull!” She protested, although she laughed, surprised to be thrown in the air, her feet nearly knocking in a candelabrum. She hadn’t felt so light since she was a kid in her father’s arms.

 

Ignoring the Chargers’ hollers and the patrons’ stares, Bull carried her up the stairs and to his bedroom. The door slammed behind him. He threw her on the bed before crawling on top of her.

“Was that really necessary?”

He removed her red scarf to nuzzle her neck, breathing in her scent. “The faster they gossip to their heart's content, the faster they’ll move on to something else. What’s more…” He pulled on her corsage and kissed the swell of her breasts. “I’ve been waiting two weeks for this. Which is plenty of time to plan the numerous ways I want to make you fall apart.”

He untied her corsage and rubbed his face against every part uncovered. His stubble tickled her tender skin and she giggled.

“I’ve so many ideas. The question is: with which should I start? Tying you up? Blindfold? …” He continued with a list, the majority of which she never thought about.

His thirst for experimentation threw her off a little, sending her back to a time far past…

“Hey,” Bull called, bringing her back to the present. He was watching her carefully. “Is anything I said a problem, gorgeous? We talked about this, didn’t we? If you don’t want to do something, we won’t. And you’re allowed to change your mind anytime, for this too.”

“I remember,” she assured. When they had had some time alone (which wasn’t often), Bull had taken the time to remind her of what she should expect from a relationship with him (in short: not vanilla sex). She had been intrigued by the prospect. The concept of a watchword had pleased her somehow. “It’s not that,” she hastened to add, “just a fleeting memory, sorry.”

“Not a good one, it seems.”

“Well…” She shrugged. “I guess my first time could have been better.” She had made peace with this conclusion by now. Romance and sex had never been an essential part of her life. She had been sad, she had felt betrayed. She got over it.

Bull sat up and used the opportunity to remove their boots. “How so? The guy didn’t have a clue how to make it good for you?”

“There was that, I guess, although he tried, we were both relatively inexperienced.” She wiggled her toes once they were freed. Bull tickled them, getting another giggle from her. She relaxed slightly. “No, it’s just… once we were done, he thanked me for the opportunity and basically told me that now he knew he was more comfortable sleeping with someone smaller than he.”

Bull’s eyebrow went up before going down in a frown. “That’s really pretty shitty if he didn’t tell you from the get-go what he wanted. That was your human boyfriend?” He undid her belt and pulled on her pants.

“I told you he wasn’t much of a boyfriend. In hindsight, I think it was mostly wishful thinking from me. He was a childhood friend.”

Bull hummed in understanding. “His loss.” He brought her left leg to his lips and kissed it from her toes to her knee. “I like to be honest about sex. Everything is fine as long as everyone is on the same page,” he explained, slowly crawling up until he had his elbows on either side of her shoulders. “If I want something, I’ll tell you so from the start. Same for you: if you want to or not, you say so. Agreed?”

She nodded eagerly. Nothing would make her more at ease than a guarantee of honesty. She threw herself at him, clinging to his shoulders with both arms as she kissed him fervently. A few caresses got her to melt into the sheets and he licked and kissed his way around her neck. She exhaled in pleasure and murmured: “No blindfold, I want to see you.”

“As you wish, gorgeous.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope I did justice to demisexuals. I'm not one myself but I empathize strongly with this kind of sexuality. If something seems off, don't hesitate to come talk to me about it. It might be simply that everyone is different or I might have made a mistake / had difficulties to express myself appropriately in english.  
>   
> You can also find me at: ashkaarishok.tumblr.com


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